Loosing My Religion 5: poetry

Faithless

I once was so sure

with a child's Absolutism

that I knew what came before

I once was so sure

with a youth's Omnipotence

that I knew what came after

I once was so sure

with a young adult's Spirit

that I knew I had been wrong

but had now found out what was

Today I am not so sure

how much of my past

dictated my past

and circled around

to my present

The calls of the Faithful

have no draw for me

and although there are many roads

not one pulls me home

My Beliefs have lost the battle with my Truths

and my Truths have fallen away

I have no Absolutes

and no Omnipotence

I still have my Instinct

I still have my Reason

My Spirituality is my Humanity

and is that not the truest Answer

to the Question "Why?"

For the first time I am Faithless

For the first time I am Free

June 18, 2007

A New Kind Of Magic

First there were wizards

with cards of the future

and boards that pointed from another world

Along came the sorcerers

with their book of ways and rules

and flocks of the loudly faithful

Then there were witches

with gods and goddesses of the past

and moons of lightness and dark

They all led me through

the illusionists and mirages

where prayers and spells

become reasons and answers

inquiry is the chants of rosaries

and skepticism is the salt of the earth

Now proof is required of the magic

and questions are always asked of the magicians

June 19, 2007

Loose (loos), adjective, looser, loosest, adverb, verb, loosed, loosing:

free or released from fastening or attachment,

free from anything that binds or restrains; unfettered.

www.dictionary.com

Exhibits Of Humanity

Exhibits Of Humanity

After a day of teaching by sight and silence

their stories told to those who’ll listen with more than ears

they stretch

The Soap Lady helps wash away the dust of daylight

from eternally embracing brothers

Elfin children dance their angled bebop

over cabinets filled with epics quaking with their own jig

The faces of romeos and painters yawn

as the onion headed infant skips across their slick skulls

and a single horned grand motherly woman smiles over all

Each a teller of tales

with only a small cryptic piece of paper

as a banner to herald their achievements

Their work takes more than lifetimes

and although their lessons sting

if you approach them with youthful innocence

there is beauty in the cut

like blood on glass sparkling in sunlight

During the day with lights on bright

if you’re willing you’ll hear the drawers rattle

the glass shake

and wafting through the corridors

“We are here! We are here! We are here!”

Here where a label is not a sign of prejudice

but a rite of passage

Here where all are welcome

for they are

what you will be

June 14, 2007

Tressa Lee Breen

(Inspired by inhabitants of “In The Mutter Museum” by Teller from “Penn & Teller’s How To Play InTraffic”)

The Unicorn's Widow

The Unicorn’s Widow

Were you born with the hint of it

a nubbin

the glance of a fable

that grew with you

to become an epic

What did those school yard younglings

with their flat featureless foreheads

say when you trotted out to play

Did you spend your Sundays corralled in a pew

surrounded by eyes that whipped you with stares

Did you marry

a man who saw the woman behind the myth

or a groom who saw a bridal handle to a virgin

After galloping through almost all of life

you had it separated from you

or did you unwillingly lay down your lance

Perhaps for the first time you could see everything clearly

but could you still see yourself

Did you mourn

lost and unbalanced

the innocence and the magic taken

by a lifetime of pressure from the herd

June 14, 2007

Tressa Lee Breen

(Inspired by Madame Dimanche - Widow Sunday - in “In The Mutter Museum” by Teller from “Penn & Teller’s How To Play In Traffic”)

Brothers To The Bone

Brothers To The Bone

What did you see reflected in the faces of your old world progenitors

Did they hold up you up and away

or hold you up to the sun

Did you notice you were different

or did you wonder why everyone else was alone

What did your lovers think

Did they join one soul or two

Did your children have three parents

or one mother and one father with two voices

Did you beg your gods for loneliness

or was the concept of by oneself not even conceived

Perhaps you were thankful never to know the dark side of solitude

Did you share more than most humans could

conjoined in spirit

or did your body keep your essences still and separate

The questions and the answers you keep now to yourself

twins of silence

Acrobatic leaps of imagining won’t bring one close

to knowing who you were and how you lived

but one thing you both do share

you were brothers to the bone

June 13, 2007

Tressa Lee Breen
(Inspired by Chang and Eng in “In The Mutter Museum” by Teller from “Penn & Teller’s How To Play In Traffic”)

Soap Lady

Soap Lady                       

I don’t remember much of before

the average, undistinguished things

that make up breathing

but when I stopped

that’s when I began

It didn’t take much effort on my part

the work was automatic

I released myself into a bed of soil and the embrace of air and water

I watched many Novembers pass me by

and as leaves fell round my sleep

I made my change

became my mark

Now people see

I’ve washed away all my vices and virtues

my regrets and successes

mistakes and truths

until all that is left

is purely me

Clean at last

Clean at least

thank nature all righty

I am clean at last

June 13, 2007

Tressa Lee Breen

(Inspired the Soap Lady in “In The Mutter Museum” by Teller from “Penn & Teller’s How To Play InTraffic”)